


Through The Screen

by evdbart (eviedeebee)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged up characters, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Peacock Miraculous, Turtle Miraculous, new miraculous users, send help, sort of inception crossed with IDK something sci-fi ish, virtual reality au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:44:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eviedeebee/pseuds/evdbart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette is working in a Virtual Reality Research Facility, and Adrien is one of her test subjects. However, when something goes wrong and he gets stuck in the dreamscape, Mari has to go in and get him back as Ladybug…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Everything in his field of vision was tinged with a frost-like filter. The grass looked somewhat fuzzy around the edges, but still managed to be more vivid than any green he had ever seen. A light breeze caressed his face and he laughed as he felt something grazing his toes. He looked down to see a multitude of iridescent beings crawling all over his bare feet. At first, he had deemed them to be some sort of large aphids, but upon closer inspection, he realised that they were tiny green cats. He beamed and sank down until he was almost face down in the grass and could see their jelly-like forms plodding around. One of them yowled and raised a paw to the sky. Instinctively, he inclined his head in the direction in which it was pointing.

The sky was beautiful, and silhouetted against it was a girl. She was tall and slender, wearing a red, calf-length dress which billowed in the wind along with her shoulder length blue-black tendrils, and as he approached, he noticed only her glazed-over eyes, which were a shocking blue. The top half of her face was obscured by a mask, the type that one might have worn to balls in centuries past. This one was crimson and silky, with the image of a golden ladybug embossed in the area to the left of her eyes, and was tied loosely around her head with a matching ribbon. This one was crimson and silky, with the image of a golden ladybug embossed in the area to the left of her eyes, and was tied loosely around her head with a matching ribbon.

The rest of her face was flawless in his eyes, from her sparkling ruby lips to the light freckles that dusted her nose; these he soon lost track of as they disappeared under her mask. He tentatively raised a hand in front of her face, but her eyes didn't follow it as he waved it around. They stared right through him towards the infinity behind him. He turned around to see what she was staring at with her mouth agape, yet he found nothing but whiteness, and in the distance he could make out very faint green lines cris-crossing as far as the eye could see. At once, his head was overflowing with one thought only. “This isn't real.”

***

He blinked in and out of consciousness for what seemed like an eternity after that, and when he came to, nothing made sense. There was a loud beeping, and he could feel three spots of coldness on his face, as well as several more on other parts of his body. When his green eyes fluttered open, at first, all he saw were wires coated in white plastic, and an equally clinical tied ceiling. Then came a flash of blue, and the beeping got faster. He started to shift around to get a better view, but a voice stopped him.

“Adrien, it's fine. Please don't get up, and try not to move the electrodes too much.”

A face hovered above him which seemed somewhat familiar and not, in a strange way, and he grasped the bars of the bed. He cleared his throat.

“Has there been an accident?” Adrien croaked.

The woman laughed and wrote something down on her clipboard.

“Well, it's normal that you're a bit disoriented at this stage,” she said while leaning over him to remove the electrodes on his forehead and cheeks. “I'm just going to check your eyes now, so stay still.”

The woman smiled and got closer to his face, close enough to smell Vanilla and Magnolia blossom as she shone a light in his eyes.

“Yup, you're fine, just as I thought.”

As she pulled away, he glimpsed her nametag long enough to read it. _Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chief Simulation Co-ordinator._

“You can sit up now, Adrien,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Your clothes are behind the curtain.”

His feet fell into a pair of fluffy slippers and he shuffled across the room as she sat back on the chair beside the bed, writing notes. “Do you need me to tell you what I saw, or...”

She lifted her head and smiled. “Oh no, the Simulation Interface showed me everything, so I can study that after you leave.” He disappeared behind a navy curtain, where he pulled on the neatly folded jeans and button down that he had discarded earlier. “Erm... I hate to ask, but-”

Her voice piped up from the other side of the curtain. “Yes, well you'll have to sign a few more forms but you should be paid by the end of the week.”

He fumbled with the buttons as she continued.

“Sorry it isn't much, but it should increase after a few more sessions when we get into deeper stuff.”

Adrien winced. The life of a test subject wasn't an easy one, but it paid the bills ever since his father had cut him off for not wanting to pursue the family legacy six months ago.

“It's fine, Miss Cheng,” He drew back the curtain and retrieved his shoes from under the bed. “I get by, I suppose.”

She sighed. “We're all just trying to get by in this day and age. This isn't the career I envisioned either, but life is difficult when you have to support yourself.”

“Same time next week?” he inquired as he picked up his bag.

Marinette nodded. “You can sign your forms at the reception- just be sure not to tell Lila I sent you. She's very good at stalling my handsome subjects.” She flashed her teeth at Adrien, who laughed and waved at her as he left.

As soon as the door shut, she felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. “Did I really just say that?” she cringed, marvelling at how beautiful she had seemed in his projection. Her phone buzzed as she got back to her notes. “Probably Alya,” she told herself, and replayed the hologram from the Plagg program on the table in front of her, watching Adrien watch her image again and again until she had documented every detail in her research journal.

That evening, she decided two things:

  1. It was a great idea to help out an ex-classmate in need, especially the adorable former model kind

  2. She looked hella good in red.




 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg sorry this chapter is super hefty :S  
> Also thanks to everyone who has liked this so far, I really appreciate it!

 

Marinette arrived at Miraculous Laboratories completely out of breath on Wednesday morning. As she flashed her security badge at the gate and was buzzed in, she checked the time on her phone. 9.02. Oh Crud. She was late again. Any more of this and she could be sanctioned. She smoothed down her Dupain-Cheng original lime flared skirt that she had finished at four in the morning, checked that her chignon was still in place and strolled in towards the front reception desk.

Lila was reclining in the centre of her white desk filing her nails while on her cell phone.

“Of course, Julie, I'll be there! I need you to pay of course, you know I can't touch my trust for another year or Daddy'll freak. I don't think he'll let me borrow the car again either, so you'll have to pick me up!”

Marinette drummed her fingers on the table as Lila continued her vapid rant.

“Yes and Marc bought me some new perfume you'll be jealous of, I think it's by-”

She sighed and leaned over the coral pumps to poke the receptionist on the ankle.

“I know, right! Sooo expensive!”

Marinette tapped her again and tried to make herself noticed.

“Excuse me, Lila, but I need-”

Lila scowled and ended the call.

“What do you want?” she snapped. “That was my **sister** , you idiot!”

Marinette sighed for what felt like the twelfth time as Lila put her feet back on the floor.

“I'm sorry but I need the key to the restricted area. I left my holoprojector there yesterday.”

Lila smirked. “ Maybe I'll give it to you,” she giggled as she reached for a stay wisp of Marinette's hair with her manicured claws. She tried to tug at it, but Mari recoiled. She turned back to her computer screen and grimaced. “And then again, maybe I... **won't** _._ ”

Marinette put her bag on the table, accepting the fact that she might be there a while.

“What do you need, Lila?” she asked.

Lila put her hand up to her pointed face and pretended to be deep in thought. “Hmmm... well, there is one small thing.” She tilted her head and made a point of smacking her lips. “I want Adrien.”

Marinette internally lost it, but attempted to keep a straight face. She had more experience than she would have liked dealing with this Italian principessa, and in their four months of 'working' together she had only lost her temper once, when Lila had lashed out at her visiting mother. She usually managed to remain calm, but when it concerned people she loved, things could get ugly. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth with the intention of reasoning with her, but Lila had already cut her off.

“His next session is today, isn't it? I think I'll just talk to him then, maybe have him buy me dinner, see where that goes.” She winked, however her smugness quickly turned to fear as Marinette slammed both hands on the desk.

“My key, please!” She practically spat the words out through gritted teeth.

Trembling slightly, Lila slid a small silver key across the desk.  
Marinette pocketed it with a triumphant expression and retrieved her bag. As she strutted away, she called back, “I don't know why you're still interested, Lila, he's obviously too poor for you now if he has to do this rubbish to pay his rent!”

 ***

 

She was at her desk with the hologram of Adrien's immersion playing on repeat and doodling in her latest sketchbook. It was leather bound and had almost been filled with designs in the month since her parents bought it for her. She had shuddered at first when thinking about how much it must have cost them, but had taken great care of it during their brief affair, sketching at every chance she got. Now she was onto the very last page trying to doodle the dress and mask from the projection. She was almost there with the dress, but couldn't quite figure out how the mask fastened at the back. There was no visible knot, with the ribbons free-flowing and floating despite the structure being anchored onto her face. She decided that she would have to make adjustments. Adrien's subconscious had a very good eye for fashion, but she was still bound by the laws of physics in reality.

“Beautiful as always, Marinette.”

She almost fell out of her seat. Adrien was standing on the other side of her desk, looking radiant and beaming at her with a smile that made her feel like an ice pop in a microwave. She instantly felt a familiar redness creeping onto her cheeks.

He noticed her blush and bit his lip. “Your... drawing. It's very accurate, and er, brilliant.”

She turned the book so that it faced him and tried to breathe normally. She looked up at him, attempting to ignore how wonderful his golden hair looked today, sort of artistically tousled and extremely shiny. Even though he had given up modelling, he still had... something.

She regained control of herself when he studied it closer. “Yes, well there are a few things I haven't worked out, and I didn't want to plagarise your design or anything, it was just very draw-able.” Her voice quaked slightly and her mouth went completely dry, but she had managed to get out an entire sentence, which was quite an achievement.

He laughed and sat down in the chair opposite her.

“It's still beautiful, Mari,” he said, his voice growing serious. “It's a real pity that you couldn't follow your dream.”

Marinette shuffled around in her seat as his stare intensified. “Dreams will always be dreams, Adrien. Just because you want to do something doesn't mean you will get the opportunity to pursue it.”

He looked down at the page again, unable to suppress his regret. “I really wish... I'd talked more to my Father about you. He has contacts- I'm sure he would have helped, like maybe with your art school fees or something.” He met her eyes again.

“Adrien, please don't blame yourself. I had my heart set on ESMOD, but it just didn't work out. It's no one's fault but mine.”

He leafed through her sketchbook, and then closed it carefully before setting it back on the table. “It's never too late, Marinette. Many great designers don't get it right away, I mean, look at Vera Wang.”

She smiled back at him in agreement. “Right, should we get started then?”

Adrien's gaze darted to the hologram and then mischievously back at her. “Only if you promise that when you ace this research project on VR Lucidity, we'll put our Euros together and open a boutique. I'd even model if you like!”

They both laughed and she directed Adrien to the projection.

***

“So this is you going through a standard virtual dreamscape experience. As you can see, it's only a few seconds long, even though you felt like you were there for hours. What we need to do over the next few sessions is try to invoke lucidity and self-awareness within the immersion; enough for you to change something and complete an objective, like taking off the girl's mask, but not enough to end the dream completely.”

Adrien nodded and lay down on the bed. He closed his eyes as she hooked him up to the heart monitor and dream inducing machine.

“Count down from ten, please.” She was further away now, probably starting up the simulation on the machine.

“Ten, Nine” A small buzzing sound started to occur in his ears and she sat down in her squeaky chair.

“Eight, Seven... Six... Five-”

By the time he reached four, he was already gone.

 ***

 

It was exactly the same cycle as last time. He was in the field, sure enough, and yet again he marveled at the discovery of the minuscule cats. One of them pointed a paw to the sky and-

Adrien woke with a start.

“Wha- what happened?”

Marinette was at his side, frowning into her clipboard.

“That wasn't supposed to happen,” She muttered as she went over to the humming machine in the centre of the room. “It's fine, we'll try again. I just have to adjust a few things, all right?”

Adrien nodded and lay back, trying to clear his mind.

***

 

He was barefoot and surrounded by grass. His heart raced as one of the mindgoblins or whatever they were gestured upwards.

He was slowly walking towards the figure as she stood there, vacant eyed, her mask so loosely attached that it was not tied at all upon closer inspection. He raised his hands to the ladybug on her left, and lifted it ever so slightly. He could see all of her freckles, but her eyes changed, and it was all over.

 

Marinette was scribbling furiously, and then she was hugging him. He had seldom felt so much emotional warmth in his life, and felt it all dissipate when she pulled away, to his horror.

She was beaming.

“We did it!” She exclaimed, and the next thing he knew he was dressed and outside the room.

Marinette was alone again, and gathered up her possessions to deliver the weekly report when she noticed something that made her stomach drop.

There was a phone on the table, and it sure as hell wasn't hers.

She instinctively scooped it into her bag and shut down the holoprojector only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

Her heart leapt. “Come in!” She said, trying to sound as unfazed as possible.

It was not Adrien who came through the door but her supervisor, Stephen. He was typically english; about average height, grey-haired with a hint of a beard and piercing grey eyes.

“Oh, er, hello, Dr Holgrave,” she squeaked. “I was just about to come and see you. I had a breakthrough, look!” Marinette switched the holoprojector back on.

Stephan observed it with minimal interest and took it upon himself to address her instead.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, this is good, but to tell the truth, your project is simply not viable.”

She felt an overwhelming sense of dread rising through every fibre of her being. “B-But I...”

Stephen ignored her completely. “I'm sorry, but our funding for our next big research project fell through and the entire department is failing. What I'm trying to say is that if we don't see real results by the end of the month, you're out. We simply can't afford it, I'm sorry. Unless there is a faster way, your project is-”

Marinette's throat started to clog. She frantically tried to think of ways to save her work, just to speed it along. She had nothing... except... She held up her hand to Stephen and rummaged through her desk drawers.

“Aha! Maybe this will do... I had initially refused it but it might work.” She handed a booklet to Stephen.

He raised his eyebrows and looked back at her.

“I suppose you can always try it.”

The second he left, Marinette took her phone out of her lab coat pocket.

_Alya: Do you still have to work late Mari? I understand if you can't be there but tell me first dude :o_

_Mari: I'll be there at seven :) I also think I  may have saved my project!_

_Alya: Cool beans!!_

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to break up this chapter because it was so long, so here's a short(ish) part 1

Marinette's phone buzzed again as she was getting dressed. She grimaced as she zipped up an extremely floaty sugar-pink dress that looked like it had been made from spun candyfloss; fumbling around on the bedside table until she felt it vibrating underneath an apple green scarf.

Twelve new messages.

“Oh, great,” she thought aloud, scrolling through the thread. All of them were saying basically the same thing.

_Alya: Where are you Mari-LATE??? Like everyone's here except for you ;( ;(_

She typed out a reply, barely looking at the screen as she scanned the mess for her white sandals.

_Mari: Still at home sorry there was a weirdo on the metro that held everyone up and I had to get the long route, but I promise I'll be there in 15_

After a few minutes of frantic searching, she went out into the living area and looked under the sofa.

“Aha!”

She threw herself onto the midnight blue cushions and strapped them on as Alya messaged her again.

_Alya: Ok but don't expect me to wait for you before we hit the mosh pit! Xo_

_Mari: Dude, I would hardly call your Mother's restaurant a mosh pit..._

_Alya: You dare disrespect me on the day of my birthday!?_

Marinette laughed as she pulled on a matching coat and scurried out the door.

_Mari: I hate you too <3_

 

***

 

When she finally arrived (after two more hold-ups and one denied credit card which resulted in giving the taxi driver the rest of her cash), Marinette was amazed by the décor inside Le Grand Paris. Alya's mother wasn't rich by any means, but she had certainly done a number on the restaurant's dining area. If anything it resembled a small town American carnival that had been overrun by clubbers. There was a photobooth in the far corner, and a pick 'n' mix popcorn and candy buffet (with alcohol infused popcorn and brightly coloured drinks, naturally) and the centre of the room had been cleared to make space for a dance floor of decent size, upon which Nino, Alya and her sisters were getting their proverbial groove on along with Kim, Alix and a few of their other old classmates.

Marinette waved to Mrs Cesaire, who was lingering behind the door to the kitchen and headed to the nearest table. She arranged her coat over one of the teal covered chairs and sat down next to Rose, who was over-animatedly telling Juleka about the article she read on Prince Ali's wedding. The latter was twirling a straw around in her drink and had given up on acting interested.

“And you should have seen how well the doves flew into the shape of the heart, it was sooo romantic! We should definitely do something like that one day, after all, what are birds but messengers of love?” She sighed dreamily and put a hand to her chest.

Juleka, meanwhile had perked up as Marinette came over, and lifted her right hand in a tired greeting.

“Hey, guys!” Marinette said. “You both look gorgeous.”

“Oh my god, Mari!!” Rose squealed. “It's so great to see you! Your dress is beautiful by the way; Isn't it great, we've got the whole gang back together! Look, even Sabrina's here, and everybody looks so pretty, like look at Nino, he sure cleans up nice, doesn't he?”

Juleka tapped her on the hand and gestured towards the photobooth, which was now empty bar a large foam number 25. “Uh, we'll be back,” she said.

Marinette nodded. Rose's effervescence could be trying at times and when you add spirits, let's just say there was a high risk of getting hugged to death. In order to avoid such a fate, Mari decided now would be the optimal time to put Alya's present on the gift table.

She adjusted her dress and skipped over to the already overflowing table, grabbing a glass of neon pink champagne on the way. She was just trying to find a place to slot her gift when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

She turned around to find Adrien holding a square shaped silver wrapped package. She could feel herself grinning like an idiot, barely hearing the words he was saying. Something about a phone, and – wait. She had his phone, didn't she? She reached into her bag for it, only to find nothing there. She bit her lip and looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“I am **so** sorry. I don't know how this could have happened,” Marinette exclaimed, mentally searching for the exit. “I have to go and get it, especially if it's urgent.”

Adrien smiled to himself, remarking that in all the years they had known each other, she hadn't changed a bit as he took her coat and her hand.

“Let's go then.”

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur for Marinette. As they got to the door and were about to take gift bags and candy apples to go, Mari remembered that she was short on cash, and Adrien, being gentlemanly as usual offered to pay, before reaching into his pocket and grimacing.

“Merde,” he whispered, furrowing his brow.

“Is there a problem?” Marinette asked as he pulled his hand out of his coat, and opened it to reveal a measly blue note. “Oh no...”

While Adrien was using the restaurant's phone to find a taxi service that would take them halfway across the city for five Euros or less, Alya had talked her into doing shots, and she was lying on an empty table watching the lights of the dance floor fluoresce and leap across the otherwise dark ceiling. She shifted and noticed Nathanael, or someone else that vaguely resembled a tomato, was drawing her from the next table, so she straightened herself up and posed for him.  
“Draw me like one of your French girls, Nath!” She giggled, not resisting the temptation of using like her two hundredth film quote that evening. “You'd better do it, I really am French, you know.”

“Mari, we're all French here,” said, shaking his head as he sketched.

When Adrien found her, she was half asleep, and the room spun as he bundled her into the taxi. Tendrils of dark hair fell onto her button nose, and she laughed as he reached up a hand to brush them out of the way.

As they whizzed along the road, Marinette had stopped complaining about the weird smell and was now staring wistfully out the window.

“I take it you've sobered up then.”

She smiled and answered him, not taking her eyes off the sights and lights passing them in the illuminated shopping district, a plethora of colours among the darkness.

“What can I say, I burn off alcohol pretty fast- Well, only after I make a fool of myself about a thousand times. You should have seen me at Alya's graduation party, apparently one minute I was trying to kiss a statue of Charles De Gaulle and the next I was on the phone to Manon, helping her with her German homework.”

Adrien snorted. “So how's work? You seemed pretty distracted earlier.”

She sighed. “Work is... fine. Lila's being a first class pain as usual and my boss is threatening to cut my project, nothing new there either.”

“Ah yes, how is dear old Stephan?” Adrien grimaced. “Still the English, less successful clone of my father we know and love?”

She fumbled with her dress. “Myeah... He's charming as usual. He wants me to try out a new program on you so that he can speed things up and take credit for my research again, but I don't know if I'll do it.”

Adrien's eyes lit up. “A new program?”

Marinette looked away again. “Yeah, but it's not exactly tested for public use- or safe, for that matter, and I don't want to risk putting you in danger, even though it would pay you more.” Her gaze darted back to him. Shadows were dancing off his grecian features, but she could see a pensive expression there. “You're not actually considering it, are you?”

“If it gets you closer to your own shop, then I'd do pretty much anything.”

“Adrien, I-”

They both grew quiet as the cab passed the Dupain-Cheng family's bakery. All of the lights were out and half of the detailing on the exterior had faded away, with a golden trail running unevenly down the side of the building.

“What happened here?” Adrien murmured, studying the somewhat decrepit façade that Marinette's parents had once taken such pride in.

Marinette could feel her cheeks burning. “Papa- he... fell while repainting last year,” she stammered. “He hasn't been able to work since, and Maman's been finding it hard to manage alone. I spend half my life over there trying to bring back he clientèle, but it isn't the same. They're talking about selling and moving to the country. Papa has relatives in Normandy, but it's hours away.”

She blinked back tears and Adrien, feeling a twinge of pain for his own mother. It had been twelve years, but with each passing day he felt his sorrows anew, refusing to accept the possibility of never seeing her again. Each time he saw a tall blonde woman in the street, his chest would close up and his ears would still be ringing hours after seeing her.

He knew that Marinette's parents leaving Paris would not even be on the same scale of suffering, but he still felt an innate need to comfort her, so he put an arm around her and held her close to his own jittery heartbeat, watching her close her heavily lined eyes.

***

 

 

The vehicle squealed to a halt, waking them both. Marinette yawned and rubbed her eyes as Adrien slid his the last of his money into the front of the cab.

“Have a good night, now.” The driver winked. “I think your lady friend is falling asleep,” he said in a thick Estonian accent as he pulled away.

Adrien waved and tried to get a dozing Marinette up to the buzzer. He nudged her gently, asking for the code.

She blinked rapidly, trying to reorient herself. “Huh- oh it's 2,3,8,4 and 3, I think.”

Fortunately, she was right and they went inside.

Three flights of stairs in heels was undoubtedly enough to wake Marinette, and by the time she unlocked the door, she was alert enough to recite the entirety of Carrol's Phantasmagoria without a single mispronounciation.

 “Ignore the mess,” she pleaded as she hung up her coat on the rack behind the door.

She tossed her shoes to the side and led the way to the counter, where a black phone with cat ears was chiming. Adrien picked it up and started looking at his missed calls.

“Anything important?” Marinette asked, dragging herself up so that she was sitting on the countertop.

He shook his head. “Nathalie was supposed to call about a loan,” he explained, “but all of these are from Nino and Gabriel.”

Marinette gritted her teeth at the mention of his name and felt a bitterness rising in her throat. This affluent man had left his only son to starve in a gutter just because he didn't want to be used by the media anymore. She hated him enough already, and could scarcely imagine what it must be like to be related to him. Marinette shuddered.

“Are you cold?” Adrien asked, suggesting some hot chocolate to warm her up.

She nodded, insisting on helping him at first but found herself slightly lethargic.

“I'll be out on the balcony,” she said, wrapping one of Alya's cardigans around herself.

She slid the door open and stepped outside, smiling as a cool breeze welcomed her. With any luck, she would be just in time to watch the sun rise over the sea of rooftops that was Paris.

Adrien came out a few minutes later with two mugs.

“Santé,” they said, clinking their mugs together as the sky became tinged with amber.

Adrien leaned over the railing, watching the sunrise and she couldn't help but watch him, however at that crucial moment when everything became day, he turned back towards her, setting his cup down on a tiny table. Mari found herself smiling again as he got closer.

“Still cold?”

She blushed. “No, I'm perfect thanks... thanks to you.” She paced her dinosaur mug next to his and propped her arms on the rail.

“It's funny,” she said. “ I used to have the biggest crush on you in school.”

Oh god. No. no no no n o. She was instantly consumed by regret and embarassment, not daring to look his way. In an attempt to redeem herself, she started rambling, but he just laughed and put a finger on her lips.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said, and the next thing she knew, the sky was filled with blue and gold, and they were just two figures lip-locked on a tiny balcony, insignificant to a seemingly infinite world.

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien is #domestic

All around her were tall, grey buildings. They were uniform in size and appearance, the antithesis of the Paris Marinette knew and loved, and yet in the distance she could make out the top of the Eiffel Tower rising above the nondescript skyscrapers, her tip enshrouded in clouds. Everything was deathly silent and empty. Marinette called out for her family, but no one emerged from the gaps between the blocks in this ghostly metropolis. She wandered along the road for a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of a person, or any sort of life. Failing to spot even a shrub, she let herself slide down onto the pavement.

Sniffling, she wiped her eyes on her sweater sleeve and looked up at the sky, but filled with clouds, it seemed more like a lid to her concrete prison than an escape from it. She tried to control her breathing, but felt a cold sweat as everything closed in on her. She had always had a problem with claustrophobia, and it usually didn't affect her outside, but here the omnipresent greyness and hot air weighed down on her lungs. In that moment, she felt so trapped, both literally and metaphorically that she could see spots in her vision.

Suddenly, she heard a snap.

She gasped and looked around to see nothing but the general bleakness that had been there earlier. Wait. Something was different. She staggered across the street to the entrance of an alley, where she could see a small dark shape.

“Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”

No answer.

She crouched down to examine the object that had been dropped there. It was caked in dust and grime, although she was certain that it hadn't been there during her uncomfortable stroll, but then again, she tried to reassure herself that such a thing was easily missed while having a panic attack. Her heart still raced as she picked it up and held it towards the blanket of clouds.

It was a black leather mask.

From behind her, she could hear a light scuffling. Marinette turned to face it, her eyes wide and gleaming. There was a flash of white, and then nothing.

***

 

 

“Marinette! Yo, Mari, wake up!”

She heaved her eyes open and promptly shut them again when the light proved too much.

“Alya,” she groaned. “Why'd you open the shutters?”

Marinette tried to face the daylight again, managing to sit up on her pillows. Alya was practically sitting on her legs, grinning at her.

The events of last night came flooding back to her, and she frantically looked around her, and sighed with relief as she realised that she was alone in bed. Maybe it had been a dream after all.

Alya laughed, her face somewhat coy. She raised an eyebrow. “Soooooo, I noticed you brought home a stray last night.”

Marinette opened her mouth to protest, but her best friend carried on, dismissing her panic as comical.

“It's a shame you left him in the other room though... Have you no manners, Mari? I always let Nino sleep over in my room.”

Mari rolled her eyes. “ It's not like that, Alya. He probably has a girlfriend anyway, and- Is that my bathrobe?”

Alya swept her reddish hair over the pink monogrammed initials in a half-hearted attempt to cover them.

Mari huffed. “Well, at least you didn't lend mine to Nino again. I think he stretched out my last one beyond repair.”

They both giggled at the thought of tall, well-built Nino in willowy Marinette's satin robe.

“I think I'm going to have to make him one too if he keeps staying over this often.”

She heaved herself out of bed, pulled on a pair of buttercup cotton shorts and was halfway to the door when Alya's voice stopped her.

“Um, you might want to check out the bathroom before you you go out there.”

Marinette's hands instinctively went to her hair, which she had forgotten to braid before turning in.

She winced upon feeling the tangles and knots on her head.

“ He's still here, isn't he?”

Alya nodded.

“Crud.” Marinette waddled to the other end of the room and pulled open a poster covered door.

The room was filled with steam, Alya's bathrobe was tossed over the sink and standing in the shower was a very naked and red faced Nino.

Marinette screamed and shut the door, before glaring at Alya, who had collapsed onto her duvet, howling with laughter.

Marinette flopped down on top of her.

“I hate you so much,” she whispered.

***

 

When she finally made it into the main room, Marinette was almost presentable in her Jagged Stone t-shirt and had almost fully managed to repress her earlier emotional upset.

The balcony doors were wide open, letting in a cool breeze, and the air was filled with the aroma of coffee and fleur d'oranger. She took it all in in a long breath, and then focused her attention on the kitchenette. Nino was sitting on barstool, his wavy black hair still dripping slightly. He raised a hand in greeting and she mumbled out a feeble “good morning”, and feeling her cheeks flare up, she looked down at her slippers.

Alya and Nino both laughed and went back to stuffing each other's faces with brioche.  
Adrien was at the hob making crepes in his Agreste brand underwear and one of Nino's shirts. She averted her gaze from his perfect figure as she pulled out a chair.

Mari heard him snort as he joined them at the table with a plate stacked high with crepes.  
“Well, now everyone in the room knows what Nino looks like in the Nude, I suggest we all forget the horrors we've witnessed and eat.”  
Alya snickered from behind her phone as Nino flicked his arm.  
Adrien stuck out his tongue and sat opposite the girls, serving himself a tall glass of orange juice.

Marinette couldn't help but smile as she felt herself drawn to him and his pointed features, the warmth of his eyes....  
She let herself drift off into a sort of hazy daydream in which he made her crepes every morning as she lathered them with butter and then drizzled on a spoonful of sugar. They looked and smelled divine, just like everything else Adrien had ever produced.  
From around the table, there came only incoherent sounds of approval, and within ten minutes, the entire batch was gone.

Nino picked up everyone's dishes and took them over to the sink, before kissing his girlfriend on the cheek. She was not content with this and pulled his face towards hers.  
Adrien and Marinette both looked away, and finding themselves looking at each other, looked back at the coupple who had now parted.  
“Welp, looks like we're going to get dressed, guys,” Nino winked, taking Alya's hand and leading her back to her bedroom. “Brb, or maybe not, we'll see.”  
Alya waved at them with her left hand, and as they both noticed the diamond on her fourth finger, she grinned.

Marinette was left speechless.  
“Was that..?”

Adrien was staring at her again, appearing just as shocked as she was.

“I- I think so.” she stuttered.

Adrien placed his elbows on the table.

“Well, you know what they say about the Best Man and the Maid of Honour,” he joked.

Marinette could feel regret welling up inside of her. She bit her lip. “Um, about last night... I'm sorry I said all those things. I was drunk, you know how it is...” She clutched her mug tighter in her hands. “We can just forget about it, if you want.”

Adrien looked down at the tablecloth.

“I... What if I don't want to forget?” he asked, still not looking at her.

Feeling guilty, Marinette edged her hand across the table so that their fingertips were touching.  
Slowly, he raised his head, smiling the way she had only ever seen him smile last night.

“Then I don't want to forget either.” Mari replied as they linked hands.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Are you ready?”

As Marinette opened the door to the simulation room, Adrien found that the only thing he could focus on was how her hand trembled slightly as she pushed down the on handle. He remarked on the beauty of her hands, immaculate with pink polka dots painted onto the stubby nails, and several small scars from sewing accidents. The most recent of these was due to a disagreement with Mari's rotary cutter the previous night when Alya Cesaire almost Lahiffe decided to tell her an inappropriate joke about the french president; when the punchline came, her precision cutting went badly wrong, and as a result, her right index finger was now covered by a bandaid with dancing ladybugs on it.

Adrien placed his hand over hers and attempted a reassuring smile, but his attempts fell short when he saw the fear in her eyes.

His voice came out as a hoarse whisper of agreement.

She gestured to the grey plastic chair in front of her desk, and they sat down in silence.

Adrien cleared his throat, and the chair creaked as he drew it closer to the table, trying to ignore the anxious way in which his girlfriend was shuffling through her desk drawers and the low hum of a machine that was plugged it about a metre away.

“Don't worry, it's just heating up,” she said as she placed a red binder between them.

“Are you planning on cooking me?” he enquired, too tired to add a pun for the first time in his life.

She smiled at his feeble attempt at humour, and opened the folder, which was labelled “DS/406:Akuma”

The word seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't place it and assumed it to be the name of the new simulation programme.

“All right, the general info is all there. Feel free to ask if you have any additional questions.” Marinette took a sketchbook out of her bag and started sketching as Adrien started to read through the folder's contents.

He flicked through a cover page, introductory notes for the runner of the simulation and a sort of troubleshoooting guide which was approximately twenty pages long before he arrived at the section of importance to him.

 

_Rudimentary information for those undergoing the simulation_

 

_This program, like other simulation inducing programmes involves placing the subject into a dreamlike, temporarily comatose state from which they will only be able to emerge once they become completely self-aware within the simulation, or if the forced termination procedure is invoked._

_Within this simulation, a 'dreamscape' or virtual world will be created from the subject's mind; essentially their dreams, memories, desires and fears._

_This programme is totally immersive. The subject will have no memory of the 'real world' and will believe that they have always existed within this world until provoked by termination either by the FTP or realisation that this world is virtual._

_Each session should last no longer than sixty minutes or the FTP will be initiated automatically._

 

Adrien shuddered. The idea of losing his identity, his memories and even awareness that he was just in some alternate world seemed unthinkable to him. His family, friends, even Marinette... It would all be gone.

He looked up at her across the desk. She was so beautiful in the afternoon light creeping in through the skylight. There were a few tendrils of hair escaping from her chignon. How he longed to brush them away from her pale neck and sink his face there instead, to inhale the scent of green apple soap and the croissants they had for breakfast.

He just wanted to make her happy, help her achieve her dream, no matter the cost. If this simulation stuff wasn't enough, he would even go back to modelling if necessary, regardless of the starving and the fangirls, the exhaustion and terrible working conditions. Even if it meant never seeing her and grovelling to his father, Adrien would do it rather than see her unhappy.

Again, his thoughts drifted back to his fear of the forced amnesia. Surely, there were things that could break through all of the artifice. He was resolute to keep his love for Marinette, no matter what the programme threw at him. After all, his mind had already conjured her up once before in the first simulation; what was to stop it from doing so again?

In the two weeks that they had been together, she had become such a huge part of his life that she had consumed him entirely.

He had followed her everywhere, helping out at the bakery every day, smiling when Sabine ruffled his hair and told him everything about Marinette's childhood, how she had always known that they would end up together. He hadn't been to his apartment in three days, except to water his plants and do laundry during his lunch hour. When he was waiting tables at a café on the other side of the city, she would sit on the terrace with a chai latté and a book when she wasn't at work. In the evenings, they got the metro together, silent, vigilant and always touching until they got back to the hubbub and mess of the flat.

Last Sunday, they had sat on a bench in the Luxembourg gardens, feeding pigeons until the sun set over the trees and reminiscing about how awkward they had been around each other in school.

“Just think, if we'd started talking when we were fifteen, we'd probably be married by now,” she had said as they huddled together.

“With a few kids, maybe.”

Then she had told him she wanted three, and it was their mutual decision to get started on that right away.

Adrien finished the unnecessarily long list of information with ease, and signalled to Marinette that he was ready to go.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear as she started up the machine.

_So do I._

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Adrien's eyes were closed as reality shifted, a vortex of colour and light beams that kept joining and parting to form new shapes and lines.

The dreamscape formed around him in a way that he would have found mesmerising, had he been awake.

At first, there had been a void of everything but him in his gown, but slowly an undersaturated landscape came into focus. It was like the architectural soup of Paris, but as if it had been condensed into a smaller area, with the buildings that Adrien had never passed or paid attention to having been removed, and the addition of truly nonsensical and fictional places and objects.

He had seemingly materialised outside of the Agreste mansion, which was unchanged, standing tall and austere with its gargantuan gates looming behind the young man who was seemingly asleep in the middle of the street.

Adrien was the last to change. He sighed as he levitated a few inches into the air and in a flash of greenish light, his paper-thin gown transformed into a skin-tight black leather suit with gloves and ebony combat boots. A bell at his throat jingled while the emerald dust holding him up dissipated, leaving a mask over his eyes and an extra set of ears atop his tousled blonde hair.

For a while he lay there half conscious, taking in the sounds of everyday Paris, but something stirred within him as he heard a whisper in his ear.

“Everything's going to be fine, Adrien.” it said. “Just remember that I love you.”

He felt something upon his forehead, unsure whether it was a kiss or the brushing of a stray strand of foreign hair across his face.

His eyes snapped open.

The sky above him was blue and cloudless, reminding him of home... Somewhere like this place, yet completely different.

He bounded upwards and landed about a metre away, and became instantly absorbed by his new footwear, which he had concluded to be some kind of compact,bouncier version of moon shoes. He had loved those as a child, hopping around until the elastics broke and his foot would fall through it, and he would end up on the pavement shrieking with laughter.

He tried to jump higher this time and landed in the same spot, striking a pose. He laughed so much that he didn't see the truck hurtling towards him.

A flash of red darted in front of his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing??”

A pair of arms tugged him backwards onto the pavement. Adrien gasped as the delivery truck sped past him, bearing the emblem of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, which consisted of a basket of pastries intricately drawn in black ink.

His rescuer was still clutching tightly to both of his arms, but he found that he could easily wriggle out of their grasp.

He blinked, and suddenly an armchair materialised in front of him. The orange-masked girl gestured towards it, and without knowing why, he found himself obeying.

Adrien went to sit down, but his derrière went through the chair as if it wasn't really there, (and upon closer inspection, it wasn't.) and came down onto the pavement with a thunking sound.

He looked up at her with a bewildered expression, but she just twirled a reddish curl around a glove-clad hand and sniggered.

There was a familiarity in her face, a large mole on her forehead that he couldn't place, and her hazel eyes were warm.

“Illusions,” she said. “That's my power.” The girl snapped her fingers, and a pair of minuscule sheep appeared.

They skipped through the air and took it in turns to jump over the nose of a very bewildered-looking Adrien. He gasped and looked back at the masked stranger.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him expectantly.

“What's yours, cat boy?”

Adrien blinked rapidly. Powers? What did she mean? There's no such thing as magic... Is there?

He concluded that she must be some kind of witch, and grabbed on to the hand she had extended towards him.

“I.. I don't have any,” he stuttered.

She laughed, the white-tipped fox ears perched atop her head bobbing as she examined his hand.

“Nope, you definitely do,” she reasoned. “That ring on your hand; Look at how it's glowing. It's magical, there's no doubt about it.”

She held out her necklace, which was shaped like a curved tail and glowing in the same way as Adrien's ring.

“Look, they're the same, see.”

His eyes darted back to the ring on his right hand, his mouth agape.

“Are there others?” he asked.

***

 

 

Marinette's eyes started drooping as the monitor screen flickered on her desk to a view of her old high school. She smiled to herself, relieved that he wasn't completely alone, and that no one was trying to kill him.

There had been multiple reports of that sort of thing in the testing phase of the Akuma program, but simulations were always over before anything really bad could happen.

She glanced at the clock on her wall. There were still another fifty minutes to go.

Marinette sighed and swivelled her chair back around so that she could see the screen again.

Adrien was being led through the corridors of the school in that ridiculous cat suit, which Marinette noted to be invitingly tight around his well-built frame.

Something about the girl leading him in an equally odd costume perturbed her, however.

This version of Alya seemed different to her somehow, more angular and sharp in both her movements and tone, as though a part of her was missing in this strange world.

Come to think of it, this place seemed surprisingly devoid of the technology that Alya treasured. The pair of running figures hadn't passed a single digital screen or bystander on their phone, and the room they were in now, the computer lab was devoid of its namesake, filled instead with food as though it had recently been converted into some sort of storeroom.

Marinette continued to watch intently as they stopped in front of the classroom that they had used as their form room in 3ieme.

***  


 

The fox girl, who had instructed Adrien to call her “Just Volpina- names are dangerous here” slung an arm over her shoulder and produced what appeared to be a long wooden flute.

She motioned for him to take a step back and played a few notes.

The door clicked open in response, and they both entered the room.

It reminded Adrien of the sort of bunker that might be found in a post-apocalyptic dystopian film about teenagers saving the world from power-hungry adults.

He thought about how they were all riddled with clichés and stopped himself with the realisation that he had no memory of watching that sort of movie, or any film, now that he thought about it.

At the back of the room was a row of tall bookcases, most of which had been emptied and housed a plethora of weapons, medical supplies and an entire unit full of neatly folded sheets and clothes.

There were candles on every available surface, and the windows had been blacked out.

He also noticed several maps of France and of Paris alone, which had been scribbled on in a reddish-brown ink.

The largest was plastered to the blackboard with a crudely drawn butterfly and incomprehensible scratches written around it, as well as several pins with string attached to words such as 'Animan' and 'Climatika'.

Sitting at the desk was an older woman in a teal costume with a feathered mask and cape. As he wasn't coughing or sneezing, Adrien determined that they must be fake peacock feathers.

She raised her head in surprise when she saw them.

She was almost translucent in her gauntness, with huge almond-shaped green eyes and light blonde hair swept into a messy side ponytail.

Adrien's heart skipped as he took in the familiarity of her smile.

Beside him, Volpina cleared her throat.

“Paone , I found another one,” she stated, lightly shoving Adrien towards her.

Their eyes met and Adrien heard Paone emit a tiny gasp.

“What do you call yourself?” she asked.

Adrien mulled it over for a while, unsure how to answer.

On the way to the school, Volpina had given him a vague idea of what was going on here: Apparently, she was part of a group of superheroes (?) whose only mission in life was to rid the world of the evil caused by a megalomaniac calling himself 'Papillon', who didn't use their real names in fear for their loved ones and he was supposedly one too.

His brain was still buzzing after the overload of information, and he discerned that he wasn't sure if he could trust the others just yet, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“I'm Chat Noir.”

  


 


	8. Chapter 8

Adrien had gathered a basic profile of how things worked in this new Paris from the others, but he kept getting flashes of something that troubled him. Before Volpina had saved him from the delivery van, he had seen... Well, he didn't know how to describe it, other than its otherworldliness. Even now the memory was fading. All that he could remember was a sort of wispy figure extending a spotted hand towards him in the headlights of the truck.

He cleared his throat and asked his most pressing question.

_So this place... does it have any Gods?_

 

A gloom descended upon Paris that evening, a malevolent force which was only resisted by a man past his prime in khaki plated armour, which left only the lower half of his face and neck exposed.

He cracked his withered knuckles, a vivid green bracelet swinging around the frail structure of his wrist.

A plethora of screams echoed faintly through the foggy square, a reminder of the crowd that had emptied the grey-tiled area, pushed away by a nauseating wave of gas.

Now only two figures remained, both masked and aggressive in their stances.

His rival had come out of nowhere, having dropped off the side of an invisible structure and causing havoc on the Champ de Mars with his gestures and mimes.

Now he was leering at his rival from less than five metres away.

He waved a hand upwards in the direction of his powder-caked face and adjusted his bowler hat.

 

_No, but there is..._

 

The short man was lifted into the air, limbs flailing violently as he hurtled into the gargantuan structure behind him. He remained pinned to one of the steel beams, his eyes half closing, failing to focus on the figure encroaching on his line of vision.

The mime was dragging one of his legs behind him and as he approached, his opponent remarked that the tears painted under each of his eyes were glowing purple.

 

_There's an angel, but..._

 

The mime grimaced and contorted his body. He tilted his head and drew a finger across his throat.

The armoured man slid down the tower, hitting the ground with a thud.

 

_You must pray you never meet her._

 

The colour drained from his face, and his armour faded away, leaving the form of an old man in a Hawaiian print shirt lying in the dust.

A bright red speck landed on his lifeless form, and a translucent figure emerged from the gloom.

She was a blur of red and black, placing her hands over his chest.

A bright green bubble rose from his body, floating upwards until it made contact with her hands.

There was a flash of light as she absorbed the bubble.

***

 

 

The timer on Marinette's desk went off with a shrill beep, causing her to wake with a start.

Somehow she had managed to doze off while drawing, and bleary-eyed, she shut off the timer. Her gaze drifted towards the bed, where Adrien was still mid-simulation.

She gasped, having almost forgotten his presence, and jumped to her feet.

She ran over to the simulation module and flicked a few switches; a quick glance at the clock confirmed her fears.

Adrien was out of time.

She bit her lip and went back to the equipment, desperately trying to locate the forced termination procedure launch command.

 

_Are you sure you would like to initiate the Forced Termination Procedure?_

_-YES -NO_

 

She smiled triumphantly and pressed the button.

Marinette listened to the program's mechanical voice count down from ten.

 

_Three... Two... One... Zero._

 

Nothing happened.

Mari shuffled around in her swivel chair, her eyes fixed on Adrien, who remained motionless.

Her heart was pounding and she almost forgot how to breathe as she awaited his awakening, glancing at the simulation video feed, which was now displaying nothing more than static.

She strained her eyes in the hope that the image would clear up, show something, anything to prove that his mind was still there.

Mari stood there for what seemed like an eternity, her subconscious making the fuzz on the screen look like indeterminate shapes.

She was brought out of this hypnotised state by a metallic ringing that confirmed her worst fears.

 

_Forced Termination Procedure unsuccessful._

 

Marinette's vision blurred as she stumbled over to the bed.

Adrien was angelic in his respite, an overgrown cherub surrounded by white

What followed was a tableau of hopelessness; A girl bent over the limp shell of her one true love, shaking him by the shoulders as tears burned her cheeks.

She was persistent in her efforts, trying everything from restarting the machine to a kiss on the lips, but it was all for nothing.

He was still just lying there, almost comatose, barely breathing.

Her ears rang, drowning out her sobs and the equipment's noises of protest as she tried to remove the electrodes, and the sound of more tears upon finding that doing so was impossible while he was unconscious.

After a while, she tossed her jacked aside and knelt down on the cold tiles, pressing her head to his chest so that all she could hear were Adrien's shallow breaths and a weakening heartbeat.

She was so filled with dread that she let her eyes close slightly, mirroring his slow breathing, barely noticing when she was ripped away from him and fell backwards into oblivion.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, thanks for reading! Any feedback would be great as this is my first fanfic


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